


Walking home

by Builder



Series: Creedless Assassins [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Fever, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Paranoia, Protective Clint Barton, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29273667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: Nat shows up on Clint’s doorstep in a miniskirt and ripped fishnets, her high heels dangling from two fingers by her side.  Blood-colored suckle marks stain her neck, and mascara runs down her cheeks.  Her eyes still swim with what at first glance appear to be tears, but upon closer inspection, Clint realizes the shiny glaze is fever.  He has about three seconds to congratulate himself on the insight before Nat begins to crumple at the waist.
Series: Creedless Assassins [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1096227
Kudos: 14





	Walking home

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @builder051

Nat shows up on Clint’s doorstep in a miniskirt and ripped fishnets, her high heels dangling from two fingers by her side. Blood-colored suckle marks stain her neck, and mascara runs down her cheeks. Her eyes still swim with what at first glance appear to be tears, but upon closer inspection, Clint realizes the shiny glaze is fever. He has about three seconds to congratulate himself on the insight before Nat begins to crumple at the waist.

“Ok.” Clint lunges forward to catch her, gently lowering her down to her knees, partway in the doorway, and partway out on the porch. He’d love to get Nat inside, but he doesn’t feel comfortable moving her, especially with the sparse color draining from her cheeks. 

“Ok,” Clint repeats. “If you’re gonna puke, go ahead and do it now.” 

Nat slowly moves her head to look at him, but her hair falls across her face. Her body seems to understand, though, for a ragged heave rises up, and a mouthful of alcoholic-smelling spittle is deposited on the doormat. 

“He’s…” Nat goes to wipe her lip and winds up bashing herself in the nose with her wrist. “Gonna come back.”

“Huh?” Clint offers his shirttail to clean her up instead. “Who?”

“He’s gonna come back, and–” Nat pushes Clint’s hand away as she retches again.

“Alright…” Clint tucks Nat’s hair behind her ear and watches her trembling lips form the words. 

“I had him drop me off… a mile up the road…”

“Hold up.” Clint shakes his head. “You walked _a mile_ to get here?”

“I didn’t want him to see where you live.” Had she not been vomiting, Nat’s tone would make it clear the sentence should be punctuated with ‘asshole.’

“That’s good of you.” Clint places his hand on the back of Nat’s neck, trying to gauge her temperature. “When did you start feeling sick? Before your mission? ‘Cause I’m assuming this was a mission.”

“He’s gonna come back and…” Nat lifts her head, blinking furiously. Tears welling at the corners of her eyes. Clint swears he can see flecks of mascara floating in the bulging droplets.

“If he does, I’ll shoot him,” Clint offers. “But seeing as he doesn’t know where I live…”

“But what if there were headlights following me, and I didn’t see…?”

“Alright, shhh.” Clint’s heard enough. “Your mind’s just playing tricks on you.” He slips his arm down around Nat’s shoulders and hugs her to his chest. “You done throwing up?” he asks. “You better be.”

“Hmph,” is all he gets as a reply.

“Let’s get you in side. Well, all the way inside. Wash you off. Keep you safe from rogue men with bright headlights.”

“But what if I really didn’t see?”

“You would’ve seen, I promise,” Clint says. “Even drunk and high and sick, you’re still one of the most vigilant people I know.”

“Well, thanks,” Nat mutters.

“But I do have a solution for you,” Clint offers. “Next time, don’t take a ride home from your target. That’s just not smart.”

Clint expects her to argue, but Nat just looks confused. “Ride…home?”

“Yeah, home, you dingbat. You basically live here. Honorarily. It’s the place where your family takes care of you.”

“Oh.” Nat sniffles, then nods. “Ok.”

“Ok? Go inside? Shower? Sleep? Throw up some more?” Clint smiles as he pulls her to her feet.

“Maybe all of them…”

“It’s a good thing I’ve got kids,” Clint says. “Because I can definitely help with that.”


End file.
